


Musical Chairs

by littlefrog1025



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Arguing, Betrayal, Cheating, Crying, Deceit, Drama, Dysfunctional Relationships, Fist Fights, Future Fic, Lies, Love Triangles, Multi, Wedding, backstabbing, breaking up
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-31
Updated: 2015-09-17
Packaged: 2018-04-18 06:40:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4695953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlefrog1025/pseuds/littlefrog1025
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They're supposed to be friends, but with all the secrets, lies, and deceit you'd think they were enemies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Beginning of the End

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so those of you who follow me on Tumblr know I used to be a TV staff writer, and script doctor for a movie production company. This fic is a movie idea I had YEARS ago about a group of friends who get together over a weekend for a wedding, but just the day before, all the secrets and lies they’ve kept hidden over the years are revealed by one of them with an axe to grind against the groom.
> 
> Enjoy!

* * *

**Present Day – MAY 2027**

 

No one’s said anything for almost 20 minutes. They’re spread across the [room](http://www.houzz.com/photos/12586907/Modern-Home-Overlooking-Cape-Cod-Bay-North-Truro-MA-contemporary-living-room-boston), looking at anything but each other.

[Erica](http://littlefrog1025.tumblr.com/post/120679829969/liam-dunbarr-she-has-beautiful-everything) stares angrily at the floor, like it personally offended her.

[Kira](http://littlefrog1025.tumblr.com/post/127810346474) rubs her 8 month pregnant belly, looking seasick and nervous.

[Malia](http://i.imgur.com/JerUQmz.gif) sits on the floor beside Scott’s legs, staring off into space. Her face wet with tears.

[Scott](http://38.media.tumblr.com/be64a17a0f052a0806833fed8bb9d866/tumblr_inline_mruz58PapV1qz4rgp.gif) gently touches the bruise forming under his eye.

Lydia ran out of the house sobbing a half-hour ago with Parrish chasing after her.

How the fuck did they get here? How did they become these people? How did hurting each other, lying, cheating, and deceiving one another become the norm for them?

They used to be close. More than a group of friends, but family. It felt that way for so long, and then… They’ve lost something. Something’s changed, or shifted.

Evidently, it’s collapsed.

More than 10 years of history is in this room. But how many years of secrets? When did hiding things in the dark start?

How do they end it?

Stiles and Malia are supposed to be getting married in two days. Two days.

But [Stiles](http://littlefrog1025.tumblr.com/post/126539312539) is sitting next to [Derek](http://littlefrog1025.tumblr.com/post/126537807824), knuckles bruised, leaning into him for comfort and scowling at his hand. Derek leans right back into him; their closeness on display.

[Allison](http://i1152.photobucket.com/albums/p484/Stephanie_Ciluor/tumblr_n7iwj6YwE51sogia1o2_500_zpse5831e07.gif) grips [Jackson](http://33.media.tumblr.com/712b55805c7927c9fd56ace01e4cc661/tumblr_noscvtgPvo1tlcevno2_500.gif)’s hand, squeezing until her knuckles are white, crying silently. She hasn’t stopped since Lydia slapped her.

[Isaac](http://data.whicdn.com/images/66587846/large.gif) looks like a wounded puppy. Like a 10 year old just told that his parents are getting divorced. Which isn’t far from inaccurate. After tonight, there’s bound to be more than one break up. Several actually.

His wife, [Freya](http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m8wpo8LZOv1qc49r2o2_500.gif), rubs his back in soft, reassuring circles.

“Why are we like this,” Kira asks, voice breaking, interrupting the stillness.

“ _We’re_ not like this,” Erica says. “They are,” she snarls, eyes flitting around the room at the accused. “What the fuck is wrong with you all?! Has everybody been faking it all these years and didn’t tell me?!”

“I haven’t,” Isaac says.

“Me, neither,” [Braeden](https://33.media.tumblr.com/cdb05cace79be2e81523278373b9afaa/tumblr_nbpfai3XgE1qdhtyho1_500.gif) chimes in.

Stiles scoffs. “No one in this room is innocent. We all knew about each other’s dirt. Just no one gave a shit enough anymore to say anything.”

“I give a shit,” Kira cries. “I care.”

And she just might be the only one who _is_ completely innocent.

“Does anybody else,” Scott asks, eyes scanning around. “…Because I do.”

Stiles snorts.

“I do,” he says firmly to his best friend.

Stiles sees the hard set of his friend’s eyes and knows he’s serious. Knows he’s finally telling the truth.

“I don’t want this,” Scott continues. “I never wanted this.”

“Then what,” Stiles asks. “You want to fix shit now, Scott? Is that what you want?”

“Yeah. I do.”

“Look around you, you moron! There’s enough emotional fucking damage in this room to fill the Grand Canyon! There is no fixing anything! We fucked up! This shit is beyond repair!”

“I don’t believe that,” Malia says, finally speaking.

“Of course _you_ don’t,” Stiles says snidely.

“You don’t either. That’s why you haven’t left this room. You’ve got hope like the rest of us. You want to work this out like everybody else here.”

Stiles stands. “Well, then by that logic, maybe I should leave. Like Lydia.”

“Lydia will be back. You know she will,” Scott says.

“Do I, Scott? Because the look on her face when she bolted out of here was pretty much ‘Fuck this shit, and fuck these people’. Maybe that’s the attitude we should all have.”

“Or maybe we all fucking deserve each other,” Jackson says. “Maybe we’re all pieces of shit who asked for this. Who created all this goddamn drama with one another and deserve every bit of hell that comes with it.”

“All the more reason we should figure this out. Put all the broken pieces back together,” Scott says.

“Jesus Christ. Your optimism is so fucking gross,” Stiles groans.

“Stiles,” Derek warns. “You’re being an ass and not helping.”

“Oh, what? You think all this fucked up-edness is fixable, too? Derek you’re a fucking soldier. This is an emotional war zone and there’s too many dead bodies on the ground.”

“I don’t see it that way. I see a tight squad that somehow got separated in combat, and now fight against each other rather than _with_ each other,” Derek responds, continuing the military metaphor.

“Alright. Then what do we do about it,” Stiles asks derisively, folding his arms over his chest.

“Regroup. Like Scott said.”

“What if it doesn’t work?”

“We’re not going to solve everything in one night, Stiles. It’s going to take time. And it’s going to fucking suck doing it.”

“Then why should I bother?”

“Because you could never love anyone, like you love the people in this room.”


	2. Beautiful Regardless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Malia and Scott are friends, but it's not enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so most my subscribers and Tumblr followers know that I am anti-Stalia. I also don’t care for Malia as a character and Scott as well. That said, having spent so much time cocooned in my Sterek bubble, I had no idea that peeps shipped Scalia! And once that was in my head, I kind of liked it. I could sort of see them as a couple (not canon, but in fanfic AU), and admittedly, liked them both more when I thought about them as such. So they’ve been added to my list of fav crack OTPs. Hence, their inclusion within the fic.
> 
> I still don’t fancy Stalia, nor Scott and Malia separately, but as Scalia I dig them. But let me clear something up: I’m not painting them as “bad guys” in the series because of my dislike for them as characters. You’ll see as the story moves along that EVERYONE in it is a piece of shit. Not just them. Okay, Scalia shippers? Don’t be mad at me. Please. All will be revealed.

* * *

**OCTOBER 2027 (7 months ago)**

 

He smells good. Like lavender, oakmoss, musk, sandalwood, and jasmine. He’s wearing that [cologne](http://www.fragrancenet.com/cologne/davidoff/cool-water/edt#115948) Lydia got him for Christmas. The one that makes her lean a little closer to him, against his firm arm as she smiles and he orders another round.

He always gets her drink right. She’s known Stiles for 12 years, been with him for over a year now, and he still can’t remember to order her an [Appletini](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Appletini) whenever they’re out.

But Scott does.

He opens doors, pulls her chair out, and lifts up from his seat whenever she stands.

She’s been “one of the guys” all her life, but Scott’s never… He’s different with her. His smile is different with her. His laugh and his touch.

Light touches while showing her how to use chopsticks. Light touches when their shoulders bump, sitting side by side. Light touches brushing stray hairs from her brow when it’s hot out.

“This was fun,” she says when they pull into her [driveway](http://www.houzz.com/photos/20615967/4216-Colbath-Ave-traditional-exterior-los-angeles).

“It’s always fun,” he says easily.

It is. _He’s always fun._

“Thanks for getting me out of the house.”

He shrugs. “No big deal. I wanted to hang out.”

“Me, too.”

_I always want to be around you._

“We should definitely go to that concert you were talking about,” she says. She’s stalling. She doesn’t want to go just yet.

“But you don’t like The Black Lips,” he smiles.

“I know…but…you made it sound interesting. Cool. I could probably get into them, if I saw them live or something.”

_I just want to be where you are._

“Okay.”

Silence fills the [car](http://images.thecarconnection.com/hug/2014-toyota-fj-cruiser_100435991_h.jpg). She’s looking everywhere but at him. And he’s only looking at her…

“Malia.”

Her eyes finally meet his and her breath catches. He always looks at her. But this time… This time she feels it. It hits like a hammer to her chest.

His hand raises and draws down a lock of her hair.

“I cut it. For you,” she says of her short ‘[do](http://scottisbae.tumblr.com/post/127970631178).

“Why?”

“...Because you said I'd be ‘beautiful regardless’.”

“...You are.” The back of his knuckles softly graze her cheek. His thumb slides down her lips.

“Scott. Please.”

He rushes forward, kissing her hard.

She cards a hand through his hair, and fist his shirt with the other, tugging him closer as she opens her mouth, accepting his tongue.

His hand slides up her jean skirt. Two fingers rubbing at her clit through her panties. She’s already wet.

“Backseat,” she rasps in a breathy moan.

They break apart and climb into the [back](http://www.seriouswheels.com/pics-2014/r-z-0-9/2014-Toyota-FJ-Cruiser-Interior-6-1680x1050.jpg), on each other instantly. Scott’s hand finds its way between her legs again. He snatches her panties off eagerly, surprising her. She thought he’d be tender and careful.

She’s wetter at the discovery that he isn’t.

He yanks her over his lap and slips two fingers into her.

She rides his hand as he digs into her hard.

He slips a third finger in as he wraps an arm around her waist, pulling her to his chest, and fingering her deep.

She bites his neck and he growls. The sound of it and the glower he gives her, makes her come, clasping her thighs, trapping his hand inside her as she rides out her orgasm.

He smirks at her; happy he made her lose control. He takes his hand from her pussy, and licks his fingers.

She tastes, too, when he taps her lips with his dripping middle finger.

She’s never done that before.

And she’s never fucked her fiancé’s best friend either. It’s a night of first.

Scott unzips his pants and Malia helps him shuck them down his thighs.

She grabs his cock (slightly shorter in length than Stiles, but girth-y as a beer bottle), and lines him up with her entrance. She slams down on him and smiles at the moan and hiss from his mouth.

“You feel so good.”

“Do I,” she asks with a kittenish grin. “You feel good, too. So good, Scott.” She swivels her hips, swirling on his cock with his hands gripping her ass.

She’s wanted this for months. Years, if she’s being honest. Long, hot showers every morning, fingering her pussy and thinking about a sweet, Mexican boy flicking her clit with the tip off his tongue.

But Scott was with Kira, and they were happy. So when Stiles showed interest, she took the bait.

She knew about him and her cousin, Derek. It wasn’t a secret. Hardly. How could you keep years and years of fucking and fighting in the dark? They tormented each other, driving the other insane, with mind games and lying and cheating. They were dangerous for each other and everyone knew it.

Eventually they knew it, too, and Derek called it quits. He set Stiles free, no strings, no games; completely let him go.

So Stiles moved on, with Malia. And a month later Kira gave her ring back to Scott.

Scott lifts up her shirt, along with her bra, and closes his mouth around her right nipple while she rides him. His hand massages her other breast.

“Scott…”

His mouth switches over and Malia tightens around his cock. She moves faster, grabbing his hair tight in her fist, bouncing on his lap when his mouth widens, taking in most of her breast. The wet, warm feel of it sends shock waves through her body.

Scott falls back against the seat, leaving her breast cold and damp. He grabs her hips in his hands and pounds into her, taking over.

Her hands return to his hair, pulling, as they stare at one another, right into their eyes, daring the other to look away, to be afraid, to do anything but want this.

Scott’s moans turn to groans the more vicious his movement becomes.

She takes it. Never looking anywhere but at him.

He bites his bottom lip, yanks her hair, and slams even harder; making her close her eyes and shout: “ _ScottScottScottScott!_ ”

“I hate that you fuck him,” he grits through his teeth.

Her eyes are still closed but she hears him and whimpers in response.

She hated Kira, too. She didn’t know why it hurt so much to smile at her when all she wanted was to spit in her food when she wasn’t looking.

Not until Kira poured her heart out over brunch to her, Allison, and Lydia. She and Scott were over. He grew distant all of a sudden, then told her he didn’t want to get married.

“I’m going to come! I’m going to come!”

Scott keeps at it, pushing deep into her; sharp and brutal.

“Oh, my God! SCOTT!” A tear rolls down her cheek. She falls forward, crashing on him, limp and tingling from her fingertips to her toes.

Scott glides in and out of her easier now. She catches her breath and remembers he hasn’t come yet.

“Do it. I’m on the pill.”

“You sure?”

“Come in me.”

She’s sore. Her whole body a soft noodle. But she wants him to. Needs him to.

He pumps into her quickly, chasing that all too-good feeling her gave her moments ago.

She leans into his ear and whispers: “It’s you I think about when I’m with Stiles. It’s your mouth I need on mine. It’s your hands I need on my breasts, on my ass, in my hair… It’s your thick dick I need inside me.”

He comes, shooting into her and growling into her neck. She gasps feeling all of it sop her insides.

He swallows hard. Aborted breathes against her throat as he holds her.

...Tears run down her face.

He pulls her from head from his shoulder when she sniffles. He wipes her tears away, and kisses her sweetly.

They don’t need to talk. Everything unsaid is already understood.

She slides off him. Cum drips down her thighs. She tugs her bra and her shirt down. He tucks himself back in and zips up his pants. She pulls her skirt down and runs quick fingers through her wild hair.

She reaches for her [panties](https://www.victoriassecret.com/panties/4-for-29-styles/seamless-little-cheekini-panty-body-by-victoria?ProductID=255124&CatalogueType=OLS). Scott scoops them up and puts them in his pocket instead. He wordlessly gets out of the car.

She follows.

Crickets and ticking sprinklers chatter between them in the late night silence of suburbia.

I love you. It’s on the tip of her tongue…but she can’t.

“Goodnight,” she substitutes.

He nods, looking more solemn than he did a moment ago. “Goodnight.”

He stands there in the driveway, watching her enter the dark, quiet [house](http://www.houzz.com/photos/20615962/4216-Colbath-Ave-traditional-exterior-los-angeles).

She closes the door, back against it in the darkness, waiting…

The engine turns over and headlights swing brightly into the foyer before disappearing down Lemon Avenue.

She breathes finally, breaking the dam as a flood washes over her. She sobs, sinking to the floor, wailing like a woman broken and without.

…Because sadly she is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, my fellow Sterek shippers, I don’t have to tell you to be nice to the Scalia shippers who like the fic, right? You guys know better, right?
> 
> EVERYONE is free to express their views about their ships here. I just don’t want sputtering anger about it. As long as there’s respect and nuance to your opinion/argument we’re all good. Because debates shouldn’t be shut down due to a difference in outlook.
> 
> So, no hate in my comments from anyone, okay? Got it? Good.
> 
> List of all my crack OTPs in order from “Fuck Yeah” to “Eh. I can dig it”:
> 
> • Scott x Isaac x Allison  
> • Scott x Isaac  
> • Scott x Malia  
> • Jackson x Allison  
> • Boyd x Cora  
> • Peter x Chris  
> • Scott x Lydia  
> • Kira x Malia  
> • Kate x Jennifer  
> • Jackson x Isaac (Only in a romantic fic. For some reason when it’s just PWP I’m not interested)  
> • Stiles x Derek x Parrish (Only as PWP)  
> • Stiles x Derek x Lydia (aka “Strawberry Sterek”. Only as PWP)  
> • Lydia x Cora (only as background or mentioned)


	3. Beginning of the End (II)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The three of them have been friends for 20 years. When did they stop acting like it?

* * *

**Present Day - MAY 2027**

 

Stiles finds her on the [upper deck](http://www.houzz.com/photos/12587558/Modern-Home-Overlooking-Cape-Cod-Bay-North-Truro-MA-modern-deck-boston), [Jordan](http://33.media.tumblr.com/a7565adb435b1c8a1c6fc22e7732d269/tumblr_nalyeymVqm1sog89ho1_500.gif) beside her as she cries on his shoulder. He looks up and sees Stiles approaching.

“I can take it form here,” Stiles says.

“I… I don’t know, Stiles.”

“Don’t let this weak damsel-in-distress act fool you. She’s more pissed than sad.”

[Lydia](http://33.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m0988q3Lhm1r68ega.gif)’s head shoots up. She scowls at Stiles.

“See? Some privacy, Jordan. Please?”

He looks to Lydia. She nods. Stiles scoffs at the whole exchange as Jordan heads back down into the house.

“Really, Stiles,” Lydia says.

“Laying it on thick, don’t you think? I mean, he’s already got it bad. You don’t have to work so hard at reeling him in.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, fuck you, Lyds. Who do you think I am?”

“So you believe Jackson’s bullshit, too? Nice. My best friend, ladies and gentlemen.”

“Don’t play the victim card, Lydia. It doesn’t work on people like us.”

“I haven’t done a thing with Jordan. Not once have I ever betrayed Jackson like he’s betrayed me.”

“Oh, you think so, huh?”

“What did you come up here for? You need someone to pick on, beat down, since Scott did that to you?”

“Scott thinks we can fix all this. Derek does, too.”

She chuckles dryly. “Well, that’s between you four and whatever love rectangle you got going on.”

“No, with everyone. Everyone wants the shit floating between us all to end, and it starts tonight.”

“You mean, you idiots think the fucked up friendship we’ve all been a part of for the last 11 years is reversible? You think we can mend all the open wounds and scars that were unleashed tonight. No. Tonight was a bomb that’s been waiting to detonate for years now. It’s over. What just happened down there was further proof that we’re not friends. We’re not family. And we never were.”

“You don’t believe that.”

“Yes, I do.”

“No, you don’t. You’re pissed like the rest of us that the people we trusted most let us down, but what’s really setting your teeth on edge is how you still wish we were the people we used to be.”

“...Maybe we were never those people. Maybe we were never good to each other,” she says, refusing to cry.

“You, me, and Scott… Remember when we were kids and we used to tell people we weren’t friends, but brother and sister? We used to be good to each other, Lydia. All of us. We lost that, but we can get it back. We… We just have to stop lying to each other, and ourselves.”

“Is that what you coming up here is? Forcing me to be honest with myself? I don’t need to be honest with myself about anything. I haven’t done anything! I haven’t hurt anyone! I didn’t sleep with Jordan! I want to— God, help me, I want to, but I didn’t!”

“You’re not clean, Lydia. Hell, the only person that is is Kira.”

“Because she’s naïve.”

“Because she expected better from her friends! Because she didn’t know we were all full of shit!”

“I told you, I’ve done nothing wrong.”

“You got pregnant with Beth on purpose to hold to Jackson and we both know it,” he says coldly, tired and fed up with her denial.

She turns as white as a ghost.

“I can not believe you said that to me,” she sneers at him.

“And I can’t believe no one else has put that together.”

She slaps him, clear across the face! “You have some nerve, Stiles! You and Derek spend the last 11 years fucking and fighting, lying, cheating, and scheming on one another, and all I want to do is start a family with my boyfriend and you make me out to be some witch!”

“Just admit that you're a liar like the rest of us, Lydia! Admit it so we can end this and start over!”

Tears fill her eyes as she stares at him, like she doesn’t recognize him anymore. “…What happened to us? You and me? We used to be so close. Now, it’s like we take turns humiliating each other. I hate it. I hate it so much, Stiles,” she cries.

“I’ll apologize for embarrassing you, but not telling the truth. You trapped Jackson. You did, Lydia. We both know you did. And you never have to say it out loud for me to know it’s true. That’s how much I know you. That’s how much I thought keeping that to myself, never confronting you about it, was me being a friend. When really it’s me thinking little of you and our friendship. Because if I really loved you, I would have said something. This is what I mean. Somewhere along the way we started becoming toxic to each other.”

She wants to yell and scream and call him a liar.

But he’s not.

The distance between them was growing in every way. It didn’t help with her going to Harvard, and Jackson staying in California at UC Berkley. With Allison.

They were graduating soon and she felt it coming. She didn’t want to let him go. He needed to know what an amazing wife and mother she could be. How exquisitely she could throw a dinner party and speak in fluent Japanese to clients, discussing impressionistic art, all the while attending little league baseball games and holding bake sales.

She was an every woman and he needed to see that. He needed to see she was better than Allison.

So the last time he came to visit her in Boston, she snuck into the bathroom and picked at his condoms with a threading needle.

“I don’t deserve my friend and my husband betraying me, Stiles,” she insists, voice breaking.

“Yes, you do. Just like Allison deserved that slap you gave her. We all have been doing nothing but hurting each other for years. We deserve all the shit that’s happened to us and what it's become now.”

“Why would you say that? Why would you believe that?”

_“Because we stopped telling each other the truth.”_

Scott. Walking up behind them.

“It was just the three of us in the beginning, remember,” Scott says. “We _were_ family. Honest and caring and there for one another. Then we got older, and lost that. I want it back. I want us back. So bad,” he says. Tears well in his eyes.

He really does. He wants to get back to the people they used to be, before they were ruined by deceit and selfishness. Clean slate for them all.

“Do you want to hit me again,” Scott asks Stiles.

“…So bad my teeth hurt,” Stiles admits.

“I’d let you.”

Stiles has never been so tempted.

“I never set out to go behind your back. I didn’t plan to fall for her, but you don’t love her, Stiles. Not like I do.”

“It’s not about her! It’s about you! My friend! My brother who fucked with my fiancée!”

“I begged her to tell you. I asked her to do it with me, but she was scared. She’s never… She doesn’t hurt people the way we do.”

“Well, for a novice in that department Malia's skills are pretty fucking advanced. She should go pro and start a business sleeping with best friends while she’s engaged,” Stiles barks.

“You have no room to talk, Stiles,” Lydia reminds him. “You didn’t stop sleeping with Derek until you asked her to marry you.”

“Why did you even ask her,” Scott asks.

Honesty. Truth. That’s what they’re supposed to be doing, Stiles reminds himself.

“Not that you’re owed a fucking explanation...but I thought being with her would help me finally get over Derek.”

“But there is no getting over Derek for you. Is there,” Scott asks.

There’s no point in answering. There’s not a soul in this house who couldn’t answer for him. Everyone knows there’s no end to the saga that is Stiles and Derek.

“…You were judging me, making me feel like shit over my relationship with Derek. That’s when we fell apart,” he tells Lydia.

“Stiles. You… You two are insane when you’re together.”

“And we’re even crazier when we’re not!”

“That doesn’t mean you should be a couple! I mean, you were prepared to spend the rest of your life with Malia just because he refused to marry you! The two of you go out of your way to hurt one another when you’re angry instead of talking, like normal people!”

“But we’ve never lied to each other. Not once since I was sixteen. Every horrible thing we’ve ever done to each other we’ve been honest about, and that is more than I can say for the rest of the people in this house.”

“Still doesn’t make for a healthy relationship, Stiles.”

“There you go! Judging again when your own marriage is a burning landfill!”

“What do you want me to do?! Say it’s alright to be with a man that puts his needs and wants ahead of yours, that's thrown you up against a wall, and slept with other people to get your attention and make you jealous?!”

“I’ve done the same to him.”

“Exactly, Stiles! You’re my friend. I love you. Even with everything that’s happened today and the days before. I want what’s best for you.”

“And I’m telling you that’s Derek. I am telling you that no matter who I’m with, where I am, and when it is, I will always have that man in my heart and on my mind. He is a fucking shadow, Lydia. I could never be happy with anyone else because they’ll never measure up him. I’m not a glutton for punishment. I’m not masochistic or naïve. I’ve always known what Derek and I are like together; I’ve never denied that, but there’s something in me that withers and dies when I don’t have him. It’s why I keep coming back to him. It’s why I’d let him have me after everything.”

“What am I supposed to say, Stiles? What am I supposed to do? I can never support you in this.”

“…You think he’d hurt me, or I’d hurt him. Don’t you?”

“…Yes. I think it could come to that.”

She’s been tormented since they were teenagers with the thought of it. With the idea that one day one of them just snaps and picks up a knife or a gun and just loses it.

Their fights are infamous. Screaming matches with below-the-belt insults that can never be taken back, public spats that make strangers take notice and look weary, throwing things at one another, tossing each other’s stuff into the front yard, Derek refusing to let Stiles leave the house, slaps across the face, slamming against walls, punches to the jaw, and break ups that end in tears and fire trucks when Stiles burns all of Derek’s leather jackets in the bathtub.

They’re absurd, and out-of-control.

“Let me ask you something. Do you believe Derek loves me?”

Like a flash of lightening, the answer pops into her head.

That simple yes-or-no question shakes away the cobwebs and brushes away all the dust, and it finally dawns on her why everyone else just rolls their eyes and groans whenever Stiles and Derek “are at it again.”

The picture is clearer now. Still a mess of too much this and that, but the whole thing is somehow better exposed, showing all sides and angles.

“…Yes. He loves you.”

“Do you believe I love him?”

“Yes.”

“Then it will never come to that, because then we’d lose each other for good if it did, and that’s clearly not an option either of us can live with.”

“I don’t get the two of you.”

He chuckles wryly. “I don’t either a lot of the time." He's tried for years to wrap his head around the complexity of his relationship with Derek Hale, and has yet to even comprehend just the basics of it. It used to embarrass him, make him feel stupid and ashamed, but now... Now... "I just know it kills me to not be with him.”


	4. Off-key

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles has to let go. For real this time. Forever.

* * *

**MAY 2026 (1 year ago)**

 

Stiles sits at the end of the [bed](http://www.houzz.com/photos/25629891/Master-Bedroom-contemporary-bedroom-dc-metro), tying his shoes. He glances at the mirror on the dresser across from him, giving him a perfect view of Derek. Still in bed, nakedness wrapped in the white bedsheet with his back against the headboard, looking blessed-out and smug.

“This was the last time,” Stiles tells him.

Derek rolls his eyes. “Don’t ruin it with that shit, all right?”

“I mean it. I’m serious. We can’t do this again. It was the last time.” He stands, grabbing his red hoodie off the floor.

“Oh, really? Why is that?” Derek grabs his [eyeglasses](http://37.media.tumblr.com/cc6ed188050e8a6a7eebb1833ade5dd6/tumblr_n9d0qgi7VU1qmhzq7o1_r1_250.gif) and reaches into his nightstand drawer, taking out a dime bag of weed and rolling papers. Derek’s clothes are thrown all over the place. His left sneaker is on the balcony.

They tore at each other the second the walked through the door. Stiles barely had his pants off when Derek fucked him rough on the stairs, making him come untouched. He hardly caught his breath before he found himself on the bed, gasping for air as Derek took his sensitive cock into his mouth.

He came down Derek’s throat then returned the favor.

The older man was still hard, so he flipped Stiles onto his stomach and ate him out until he was sobbing, then fucked him bareback. Twice.

It always like that with Derek. It’s always wild, too much, messy, and never enough. But it has to be this time.

“I asked Malia to marry me last night. She said yes, Derek.”

Derek snorts, snickering as he rolls his joint.

“I’m serious.”

“No, you’re not,” Derek dismisses.

“Yes, I am! Derek. Look at me. Look. At. Me.”

Derek sighs, drawing his attention from his joint to oblige Stiles, looking square at him.

“I asked Malia to marry me. She said yes. We’re getting married. Understand? This. Tonight. Was the _very_ last time.”

The cocky, amused plush of Derek’s face slowly turns rigid, dark, and angry. It dawns on him. Stiles is serious. He knows that now. “What the fuck did you just say?”

Stiles’ hands tremble. He’s hot and cold at the same time. Frozen, looking down at his shoes. Derek’s always at his scariest when he's still, voice low, in a growl.

_“What did you just say, Stiles?”_

“…This can’t happen again. I’m sor—”

Derek’s on him in flash! Hands fisted in his shirt, back pressed hard against the wall! His feet barely touch the carpeted floor.

“You asked my cousin to marry you?!”

“How is this a surprise to you? We’ve been dating for 6 months.”

“And you’ve been in my bed every other night for the three!”

“I’m not yours. You made that clear to me, remember?”

“Is that what this is?” Derek slams him against the wall! “I won’t marry you, so you ask my cousin to?”

“Fuck you, Derek,” he sneers. “I like her. I could be with her. I want to be—”

“Don’t make me hit you.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Stiles snides.

“You’ve put your fucking hands on me, too,” Derek reminds.

“…Let me go. Now.”

Derek’s grip tightens a moment, eyes looking deep and angry at the boy in his grasp… He let’s go. “You’re a fucking child, you know that?”

“This isn’t about you.”

Derek scoffs. “Is that why you fucked me before telling me?”

“Parting gift,” Stiles snarks.

Derek pushes him against the wall again! Stiles loses his breath for a second. Derek’s hands ball into fist at his sides, knuckles turning white as he stares daggers at Stiles…

He steps close to him, crowding him. He raises a pointed finger in Stiles’ face, making him flinch. “I’m going to give you exactly what you want. Because we both know you’re not going to go through with this.”

“We need to be done, Derek. Once and for all. I won’t do this with you for another decade. I can’t... I want to be happy.”

The intense frown on Derek’s face softens a fragment. “I told you before Malia that’s what I was giving you.”

“I know that now. You could never marry me. We’re only built to tear each other down. You were right: nothing good can come of us.”

Stiles sees the slight part in Derek’s lips to say…something, but his lips turns into a hard line and his glare burns through him again.

“Derek—”

“This is your mistake to make. And you don’t get to come running back to me when you realize that.”

Stiles resents that. Resents him being seen as stupid and weak. He hurts, so he has to hurt back, because that’s what they do. “Malia isn’t the mistake.”

“Go. Before I hurt you.”

Stiles moves around him, grabbing his hoodie and walking out of the bedroom. He makes sure to slam the front door behind him as he leaves.

He walks to the end of the hall to the elevators and presses the button frantically. Derek’s come after him before. Grabbed his arm so hard he’s left bruises, and dragged Stiles back to his condo. Once he refused to let Stiles go at all, barricading the door with his body and daring Stiles to even try.

Stiles has his fair share of brutality, too. Clipping Derek on the chin that night with a vase he threw.

The elevator doors open and he hurries inside. Two old ladies in track suits and blue eye shadow smile at him when he presses the button for the parking garage.

The doors close and Stiles is reminded of the day Derek moved into the building. They fought the whole time, but made up when the last box was carried through the door. They ate pizza and shared a six pack on the balcony, then made love, slow and attentive, in the middle of the living room floor.

The old ladies get off at the lobby. Stiles peeks his head out quickly. No Derek.

He rides one more floor down, getting off at the garage, eyes scanning around. Still no Derek. He’s been yanked out of his car before, too.

Twice he’s kicked Derek out of the car, leaving him stranded in the middle of nowhere.

He finds his [blue jeep](http://pictures.dealer.com/s/szottm59dodgecllc/0292/6c3505581d7f1d0b5ac1c80beeecb1bdx.jpg) and gets in, locking the doors.

He takes his phone out of his pocket:

**STILES:** It’s done. We’re over.

**LYDIA:** Right, Stiles…

**STILES:** I’m serious. I’m coming over. Jackson there?

**LYDIA:** No. Just me and Beth.

**STILES:** Okay. 20 minutes.

**LYDIA:** I’ll be here.

He tosses his phone in the cup holder and turns the key in the ignition. The radio comes on. “Bennie and the Jets” by Elton John.

They were already three beers each and four shots of whiskey deep when Stiles got up on the little stage and butchered Sir Elton John’s soulful piano classic. He bet Derek a kiss that he knew all the words. He was painfully off-key and past tipsy, but he sang every word, shouting into the karaoke microphone. Derek cheering him on the loudest in the whole bar, whistling and shouting, _“Yeah, Stiles!”_

Derek walked him to his door. The taxi waiting at the curb. Stiles reminded him of their wager. Derek leaned in, brushing soft lips against his. Stiles opened his mouth and Derek deepened their kiss. Stiles grew bold turning it hungry and desperate. He hadn’t seen him in almost a year. Derek’s second tour in Afghanistan left them with even less communication than the first.

Stiles was dating a dentist, then Derek wrote to say he’d be home in a week and wanted to see him. He broke up with the dentist and made plans to pick Derek up from the airport.

Derek paid the cabbie then followed Stiles into his apartment...

He doesn’t realize tears stain his face until the song is over.

For better or worse, he’s loved one man since he was sixteen. He’s kissed his lips and melded into his skin. He’s held his hand and felt both safe and terrified. He’s fallen asleep beside him, closing arms around him through night terrors and listened to his fears.

And it’s over now. Finally. For good.

The burn catches him behind his eyes and in his throat. He’s sobbing, loud and long, wailing like a man lost at sea. Derek’s not coming back for him. And he’s not going back up.

Every era has an end. This is theirs.

And it hurts, like hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know that couple that's volatile and destructive when they're together, but they're even worse apart? That couple that really shouldn't be together, but can't be with anybody else? That's Stiles and Derek in this fic.

**Author's Note:**

> This series is an exploration of my crack OTPs: Scott/Malia, Allison/Jackson, Boyd/Cora, and Chris/Peter. Sterek and Marrish are NOT a part of my crack OTPs because I ship them openly and fervently like a motherfucker. They are be-all and end-all; no one can tell me differently :
> 
> Also, only the crack relationships are tagged because they’re the core relationships of the series, therefore, matter more to the overall story.
> 
> Lastly, this fic will not be updated frequently. For one, since it centers mainly on crack relationships, writing for it will pretty much be when the mood strikes me to take a quick Sterek break and explore other territory. And secondly, I’m in the midst of another series, halfway through one fic, and presently outlining my next long fic. Musical Chairs is going to be that “back of the line” fic. 
> 
> Though I might be able to spend more time on it when I’m done with Future Dreams... Maybe... No promises.


End file.
